Moonlight Delights
by Marianne Greenleaf
Summary: Harold takes Marian back to the alcove in Madison Picnic Park.


_A/N – This is my 69th Music Man fanfic! So in honor of this naughty number, here's something a little extra steamy._

XXX

_They had left some of the curtains wide open, the ones that were hanging over a window that didn't face any nearby houses. It was absolutely delicious, to couple beneath the soft glow of the moon. "Someday, can we find a way make love outside beneath the stars?" she whispered._

"_I'll add that to the list," he promised, before his mouth descended over hers._

_~A Man Could Sing It Again, Marianne Greenleaf_

XXX

_May 1926_

It took some careful planning, but Harold finally managed to pinpoint the perfect evening to make love to Marian beneath the stars. The challenge proved rather daunting, even for him, as it had to be an evening where the librarian didn't have her courses, wasn't likely to conceive if they were spontaneous, the weather wasn't too hot or cold, and the moon was full. But not only did he triumph in this endeavor as they approached the end of May, her birthday was less than two weeks away, so this would make an excellent present.

As it turned out, Harold's plans dovetailed nicely with his long-held dream of taking Marian to the hidden alcove in Madison Picnic Park and enjoying a rendezvous as passionate as any they'd shared at the faraway field. Although they'd returned to this secret spot several times after their marriage and enjoyed a great deal of heavy canoodling, they'd never actually gone so far as to make love there. While Harold was certainly game for it, he sensed that Marian still retained a certain degree of reticence to be so unrestrained when they were still somewhat close to civilization, so he never pressed the matter.

But he thought about it. And like the idea of making love in the library, he'd consigned the notion of trysting in the alcove as one of those enticing but unattainable fancies that gave him fodder for self-pleasure when his lovely wife was otherwise occupied or indisposed. But to his surprise, Marian suggested the alcove when he revealed he was planning to make good on his full-moon promise. He'd picked the date and made the arrangements for family to watch the children, but he was originally going to take the librarian to the faraway field. When she proposed the alcove instead – and with barely a blush! – he was too delighted to demur, and immediately took her up on that offer.

As they walked hand in hand around Madison Picnic Park, Harold wondered what other exciting ideas Marian had considered, or even better, was presently pondering regarding their moonlit tête-à-tête. He supposed he could have coaxed a naughty notion or two out of her, but for the time being, he was content to let such thoughts simmer as he enjoyed the charged silence between them. He could tell from the enchanting blush suffusing her cheeks and the small, secret smile upturning her kissable crimson lips that she was looking forward to the opportunity to make a few refinements to their outdoor mischief. He'd done his part to set the stage by taking her to the park around ten o'clock, which was later than most River City-ziens would be out and about even on such a lovely spring night, as the last thing he wanted was for anyone to encroach on their company. Because it was the perfect evening for making love outside: not only was the moon full and the sky cloudless, the trees were also in blossom, their delicate perfume permeating the warm late-spring breezes. Several Chinese lanterns from a recent Ladies Dance Committee performance were strung throughout the park, their exotic glow lending even more romance to the atmosphere.

As ever, Harold took this opportunity to admire Marian's figure. Tonight, she was wearing a sleeveless scarlet V-neck gown that he fondly called her rosebud dress, because the skirt was layered in the shape of petals draped around her thighs, creating a silhouette that was reminiscent of a rose yet to bloom. Even better, this gown was the exact same shade as her fetching red dress of yore, when they traded rumors on her front porch. Both out of a sense of nostalgia and the more prosaic reality of the weather being almost summer-warm, he had taken the liberty of donning his smartest white seersucker suit.

As the music professor and librarian meandered their way down the park's many paths, their arms wound around each other's waists like a pair of besotted teenagers, they came to a charming little gazebo tucked away in a corner.

"You know, I've always found gazebos terribly romantic," Marian remarked. "They seem somehow made for lovers' rendezvous."

Harold grinned. "Well, in that case, my dear little librarian – " He plunked down the tuba case he was carrying, pulled his wife into his arms, and tugged her into the center of the gazebo. As they waltzed together, hips pressed scandalously close even for a married couple, he softly crooned _It's You_ into her ear. It wasn't a song he sang often anymore, as it had become tinged with loss after Jacey Squires' passing. But tonight, it somehow felt appropriate, perhaps because Madison Picnic Park was the place the school board had first performed this endearing number.

After Harold came to the end of the song, he kissed his now dreamy-eyed wife. Not deeply and ardently, but just tantalizingly enough to tease her, to embolden her to plead for more. Indeed, it wasn't long before she breathlessly entreated, "Let's go to the alcove now."

Without wasting another word – desire had made him similarly eager – Harold retrieved the tuba case and whisked Marian down the increasingly narrow paths that led to their destination. When they finally arrived at the alcove and he spread out a thick blanket on the grass for their comfort, he turned to look inquiringly at his beautiful wife. To his delight, she came over and whispered one of those deliciously wicked ideas that he knew had been percolating in her mind as they perambulated the park.

"What a wonderful notion!" he said heartily. "But I'd advise removing your shoes, first." They'd made the mistake of forgetting to do that in Paris once, and he didn't relish the possibility of another face-full of heel, should she inadvertently lash out in the throes of ecstasy. To put her at ease, he kicked off his own two-toned shoes.

Marian grimaced anyway. "I still feel badly about that – I could have put out your eye!"

"But you didn't," he reminded, regarding her with a flirtatious grin. "Every time I look in the mirror and see the scar beneath my ear, I treasure the memory of how beautifully I brought you to climax."

"Oh, Harold!" she laughed, swatting him just as coquettishly. "Help me with my buckles?"

Bringing her to sit on the blanket, he knelt and undid the straps of her rhinestone heels. While they were lovely, twinkly things to look at, as well as a whole heck of a lot easier to remove than her footwear of yore, he almost lamented the loss of sensuality that high-button boots offered – undoing all those fastenings really allowed a fella to work up an appetite.

But that kind of long and drawn-out prelude was best kept for the bedroom, as the less clothing that encumbered them out here, the better. In a trice, he not only removed Marian's shoes, but unclasped her garters, rolled down her stockings, and divested her of drawers – all of which he carefully packed in the tuba case before undoing his belt, pulling his trousers and drawers down, removing his suit-coat and tie, and loosening his collar.

As Harold stretched out on the blanket and signaled that he was ready, Marian bit her lip, as if reconsidering. Before he could ask what the matter was, she let out a low, throaty laugh. "It's not fair. You'll get to see the moon and I won't."

His heart, which had started to sink, revved right up again, and he gave her a playful wink. "Well, after we're done with this, I'd be more than happy to switch positions so _you're_ the one lying flat on your back."

With an approving beam, Marian seated herself atop him, facing his stocking feet. After she took him in her mouth, she scooted her rear back so he could reciprocate, which he did – eagerly. As she writhed against him, her rose petal skirt draped over his face like a tent so he couldn't see the moon, after all. But he certainly wasn't complaining about _this_ view.

From there, they raced each other to climax. As a point of pride, he made sure she beat him to the finish line at least three times before he finally allowed himself to join her. When Marian withdrew to lie next to him, Harold was inclined to tell her every single heated fantasy he'd ever had about them together here. But not just yet, as he was loath to break the perfect silence between them. Right now, it was more than enough to hold the woman he loved, to breathe in both her and the scent of lilac and honeysuckle surrounding them, and to listen to the singsong whistles of the spring peepers mingled with the soporific buzz of cicadas, crickets, and katydids.

And then Harold got his most outrageous idea yet. Something so heated and decadent that even he hadn't dared to imagine such possibilities, let alone realize them, not even back when he was still a womanizing conman. It was an act that would have put him in real danger of being arrested for public indecency and, more than that, required a tremendous amount of trust. This was something he'd never had with any woman until Marian. And as much as he still gloried in taking risks in the course of sating his carnal appetites, he wouldn't have had the nerve to proposition the librarian in this way if she hadn't shown him what she was truly capable of envisioning and enjoying, both in Paris and after they reconciled in River City.

So he pulled his wife into a seated position and purred in the low, velvety voice he knew drove her wild, "Marian – the moon is so beautiful tonight, I'd love to see you as we make love. _All_ of you."

Marian pulled back to gape at him, looking nearly as scandalized as she used to whenever he suggested doing something outside of the bedroom during their first few months of marriage. But her gaze was yearning rather than disapproving, which told him that regardless of any qualms she might have had, she was still game for what he had in mind. Indeed, she confessed, "I'd love to see all of _you_ under the moon, as well. But what if we get caught?"

"It's always possible," he conceded, "but not probable. It's nearly midnight, and we were already alone in the park before we got to the alcove. We're hidden very thoroughly, and even on the slim chance that someone was to stumble upon our spot, we'd hear them moving through the foliage long before they could catch sight of anything too untoward." He gazed earnestly into her eyes. "But tonight is _your_ birthday present, so I leave the decision entirely up to you. We'll do whatever you want."

Marian cocked her head and considered him with avid eyes, as if she was already undressing him with her mind. Then all at once, her beautiful face was suffused with exhilaration and determination, and she took a deep breath, as if she was about to leap off the edge of a precipice. "Yes, Harold – I want to do that, just as you said."

For a moment, Harold sat there gaping at her, absolutely spellbound by her acquiescence. Even though she had come a commendably long way in terms of boldness since he first took her here as his blushing fiancée, he was stunned that he was able to sell her so easily on one of the most audacious ideas he'd ever had for making love to her. But then again, he knew from exhilarating – and excruciating – experience that there was something about a full moon that made them both eager to embrace danger. And he was never a man to sell past the close.

So he gave the librarian a wide grin and volunteered, "I'll go first." Still feeling as if he'd walked right into one of his most implausible dreams, he stood and disrobed with trembling fingers. He'd never removed all of his clothing when he was outside, not even when he went swimming. But here he was, standing completely bare before his wife, wearing nothing but a smoldering smile as he waited for her to reciprocate. His heart raced and his pulse pounded with an excitement as fierce and eager as he'd felt on their wedding night. As much as he'd loved and wanted Marian, he never expected they'd still be sharing such intoxicating thrills after nearly fifteen years together.

After gazing at him in rapt attention for a few moments, Marian stood up, unfastened her gown, and slipped out of it. Her stockings, garters, and drawers were already stowed in the tuba case, so that only left her camisole. After she bent down to add her gown to the pile of clothing – which gave him an excellent view of her naked backside – she turned and regarded both him and his erect cock with an arch smirk. "Shall I remove this final piece, or would you like to do it?"

He swallowed hard. "You do it."

So she did. And once she stood completely bare before him, he continued to stare. Marian naked beneath the moonlight was every bit as glorious as he'd been imagining. Her pristine skin shone like polished alabaster, and she looked like a Grecian statue come to life – soft and warm and waiting for _him_.

"You know," she said with a gleam in her eye, "it's written that the ancient pagans took off their clothing beneath the moonlight. The Hindus call it going sky-clad."

Even though she'd provided the perfect opening for a conversation that could have gone in so many delectable directions, Harold was too overcome with desire to attempt to banter. Taking Marian in his arms and pausing for a moment to relish the feel of her skin against his in a place he'd never expected them to be this indiscreet, he laid her flat on her back on the blanket, so she could see the moon this time. But she spent as little time sky-gazing as he did – as he ardently explored the curves of her body with his hands and then his mouth, she parted her thighs, splayed her arms wide, and tossed her head back, moaning long and low as he suckled her breasts and then thrust into her. Wild and unabashed as a nymph, she wrapped her legs around his hips and her arms around his waist. As her hands stroked and then grasped his backside to drive him deeper into her, he groaned just as intensely as he felt every bit of her nakedness writhing against him in a way he only ever experienced in their bed or, when they were feeling especially amorous, on the sofa and floor of their parlor.

It was almost as if the fashions of the twenties were tailor-made to accommodate such scandalous lovemaking. Marian's gown and undergarments weren't nearly as cumbersome to remove as they used to be and her hair was bobbed, so there was no elaborate chignon to dishevel and then have to passably recreate afterward. They could never have attempted a jaunt as bold and reckless as this before, not even at the faraway field.

Still, knowing that this was something they would only get to do a handful of times or perhaps even just this once, Harold drew out their embrace for as long as he could, employing every single trick he knew to enhance Marian's ecstasy while delaying his, until he was so far gone in a haze of pleasure and need that he couldn't stop himself from coming at last. And when he finished, they laid together in a tangle of limbs for a long while afterward, prolonging the wonderful sensation of being bare together beneath the moon and stars, until the perspiration gleaming on their bodies evaporated and they started to shiver in the night air.

After husband and wife dressed and made themselves presentable again, they resumed lying side by side and caught up on all that sky-gazing they missed before, their hands entwined as innocently as fiancés as they stared up at the heavens and attempted to pick out various constellations. At this time of year, they were able to discern Gemini, the librarian's birth sign, and Cassiopeia, who was famed for her beauty.

"Not even Helen of Troy could hold a candle to _you_," Harold said fervently, his body still thrumming with excitement from head to toe. This tryst had turned out even better than his wildest imaginings, and it would be one of his favorite memories for a very long time to come.

Marian laughed, the same elation echoed in her voice. "I suppose it's a good thing I wasn't in ancient Greece, then – I never would have wanted to be the 'face that launched a thousand ships'!"

Pleased that she hadn't disavowed his ostentatious but heartfelt praise of her beauty, he wrapped an arm around her waist and buried his face in the crook of her neck. "I'm also glad that we live in the modern age – because you're all mine, with no jealous gods or men to gainsay me."

"And no grasping goddesses to seduce a handsome Adonis like _you_ away from me," she rejoined, turning toward him and claiming his mouth in a possessive kiss.

"Would it have been as wonderful as this, do you think?" the librarian mused after their mouths parted and he continued to trace his lips ardently along the line of her jaw. "If you had taken me here that night in July after the ice cream sociable, I mean."

Harold paused in his ministrations to consider. "It would have been passionate between us, and even though it wouldn't have been the right thing to do at the time, it would have been _very_ good – I would have made it as good for you as I knew how. But it would have lacked a crucial element."

"Love?" Marian asked wistfully.

He shook his head. "No, that wouldn't have been the issue. I was head over heels in love with you, even if I wasn't ready to admit it. But going to bed together would have complicated things between us in a way we would have been wholly unprepared for. Even if I'd done the dishonorable thing and made love to you that night, I don't think I would have been able to let you go afterward. Because I loved you in a way I never had anyone else before, and being with you only once wouldn't have been nearly enough for me. Wanting so badly to be with you again would have driven me to marry you before either of us was fully ready to join our lives that way."

She looked touched. "What made _me_ so special, Harold?"

They'd had this conversation many times before, but Harold would never stop being grateful for the way she'd saved him from what would have likely been an early and ignoble end, so he gladly took every opportunity he could to reaffirm what she truly meant to him: "You were the woman I never knew I was looking for, all those years I spent wandering from place to place. You were so magnificently formidable and indomitable, and you were strong enough to resist me even at your most besotted and my most persuasive. You saw exactly who I was from the start, but more than that, you saw who I _could_ be, when I didn't even know it, myself." He kissed her sweetly and added a little something new, something he'd never quite told her before: "And in return, I saw the woman _you_ could be – you may not have been the sadder but wiser girl, but you still turned out to be every bit as adventurous, inventive, brazen, and wicked as I am in the bedroom."

She looked thrilled. "I did?"

"You never would have gone sky-clad with me if you weren't," Harold assured her with a feral grin.

Marian's smile was just as intent and unrestrained as she replied, "Someday, we'll find a way to do this all over again."


End file.
